Change
by pharo
Summary: Liz POV on the last couple of months.


Change ****

Change

Author: Pharo

Disclaimer: Roswell belongs to Jason Katims, UPN, and Melinda Metz.

Summary: Liz POV on the last couple of months.

Feedback: [pharo@onebox.com][1]

I haven't written in awhile, but that doesn't mean that a lot hasn't gone on since then. On the contrary, too much has happened since then for me to fully explain.

  
I've got to start somewhere, so I'll begin by explaining what I've learned about myself. Hopefully, from there, it'll become easier to form the words that explain what I've felt through these last couple of months.

Do you know those people who don't like things to change? Well, over the past few months, I've come to the realization that I am one of those people. I can go as far as to say that I hate change. It scares the hell out of me. I mean, what is the point of changing something that is perfectly fine? Sure, there are some things that are far from fine, but you learn to deal with it and life goes on.

Now, when you've got someone trying to change something, the whole order of the world is messed up. Everything that you've come to be known as true and solid crumbles right from underneath your fingertips and you find yourself wondering where it all went wrong. The stable foundation that you've built for years and years disappears and you have to "readjust". All this because someone decided they wanted a better life.

Everything gets messed up when some stupid idiot decides they want it easier. Now I know that a lot of great things have come from change, but so has a lot of bad things. Change is why the world is the way it is—cruel and unfair with people who don't give a damn about each other. That is why our lives are as muddled up today.

She didn't give a damn about any of us, so now one of my best friends in the "whole wide world" is now six feet under (forgive me for not being able to write the word). 

Do you see now why I hate change? It's kind of ironic, though, considering how many peoples' lives have changed due to me. It's so frustrating sometimes, knowing that one of the best things to have ever happened to me is also one of the worst. Why hadn't it been me and not him? Why did anything have to happen at all? I was a normal teenager once, with normal teenage friends, doing normal teenage things. But along the line that was my life, it turned out that I was a not-so-normal teenager, with not-so-normal friends, doing not-so-normal things. Why did my life become "not-so-normal"? Why did everything have to change?

If I hadn't been saved that day, I would have never found out this remarkable secret and gotten access to this remarkable world of friendship, never been able to have all these wonderful moments with a group of people that I love more than words will let me express. I wouldn't have truly gotten to know what it's like to "live". But if he hadn't saved me, all our lives wouldn't have been in so much danger throughout these two years. We wouldn't have had to fight all these battles or make up all these lies. Most importantly, if I had given up my life that day, his life would have been spared today.

I spend days carrying this horrible truth around and wondering if the good outweighs the bad. It should be even, right—one life for another. I form little columns of "Pros" and "Cons" in my mind, even though I already know what the truth is. 

No matter how much good happened to me, in the end, I still regret ever pulling my friends into this horrible mess. But then again, life is full of regret—regret of what never happened and of what that, unfortunately, did. 

I wonder if he was thinking why I ever brought him into this during his last moments. I wonder if he blames me for his death; I know I blame me. I wonder if he'll ever forgive me…if I'll ever forgive me. I wonder what life would have been like if I had never gotten shot or if he had never saved me. I wonder a lot of things, but there is no point in wondering. After all, I can't change what happened by wondering about it. I know all this, but it never stops me from wondering. Wondering is what allows me to go on…to have that slight hope that maybe one day, all that wondering will actually do someone some good.

I hate change so much, yet these days I want it to occur so badly. I want everything to be ok again. So, in a way, I'm no better than that idiot who wanted to change things to benefit him is. In fact, I am that idiot. 

   [1]: mailto:pharo@onebox.com



End file.
